Fast Learner
by Sister Coyote
Summary: Soft summery night, crickets in the air and the green scent of the trees heavy as they cooled in the twilight, and the moon heavy and yellow as Ed's eyes as he figured it out and chose. Ed/Roy.


It was a properly romantic place for a first kiss—so much so, Roy thought wryly, that he was pretty sure Ed hadn't planned it at all; he tended to eschew sentimentality. In the park, beneath one of the wrought-iron streetlamps, with Ed's hair shining in the light and his eyes looking down, then up, then down again he reached out for Roy's wrist and held it in a nervous death-grip. Roy could have spared him the anxiety, thought about just leaning down and kissing Ed, but—no. So much better to let him decide to do this on his own. So much better to let him reach out first. They'd taken so long to get here, so many years, he could be patient a few more minutes while Ed worked it out . . .

Soft summery night, crickets in the air and the green scent of the trees heavy as they cooled in the twilight, and the moon heavy and yellow as Ed's eyes as he figured it out and _chose_. (It was so obvious the moment he made up his mind, the way his fingers fluttered on Roy's wrist and he narrowed his eyes decisively.) Chose, and reached up, put his free hand (gloved automail) behind Roy's head and pulled him down for the kiss (he was still a good head shorter, even at twenty and no longer likely to grow).

It was a properly romantic place for a first kiss, but, Roy thought wryly as Ed wore at his mouth and then bit as though he wasn't clear on whether he was kissing or attacking or possibly eating a meal, it was too unromantic a kiss to be anything but his first, or possibly Ed had just been kissing some very bad kissers. And yet beneath his dry evaluation of Ed's working lips and teeth Roy could feel his pulse pick up just at the touch, mouth to mouth, one hand on his wrist and the other on the back of his neck . . . could feel himself responding, inevitably, to Ed's strong mouth and his skin and the smell of his summer-moon hair and his eyes, determinedly shut.

Well, Ed was perfect in his own way, and if he needed a little instruction, Roy could provide that, couldn't he . . . ?

He broke the kiss with a little exhalation and looked down as Ed slitted his eyes open, narrow predatory hunter-yellow hovering between lust and annoyance at being stopped. Before that moment of hesitation tipped over inevitably into complaint, Roy tilted his head expertly and pressed his mouth to Ed's again.

There. There, Ed's enthusiasm, his mouth open and so strong and eager—Roy accepted it, accepted the clumsy bites to his lower lip, and then so gently _redirected_. Coaxed Ed's mouth open with his tongue but didn't force, didn't explore as thoroughly as he wanted, just touched the tip to Ed's and felt Ed stiffen with surprise and then quiver with . . . something more. Coaxed him, coaxed him, into a response that was just as passionate as Ed's earlier enthusiasm but less . . . bite-y. Coaxed him until it was Ed's tongue slick and warm and alive in his mouth, and sucked on it, and smiled against the muffled noise Ed made between them.

Breathed it in.

And on, and on, until they had to stop for air—Ed was breathing in hard gusts against Roy's cheek, just inches away, and Roy wasn't much better off. He realized he'd put his own hand beneath Ed's braid, stroking the nape of his neck where the fine soft hairs pulled free of their bindings—and then Ed was pulling him down again, determined.

Roy let him, let him lead, and led him along so subtly—let Ed bite and showed him how to bite, just the edges of teeth, a prelude rather than an attack—how to taste someone without swallowing them whole, just a tease, just a promise of more.

Until Ed was kissing him with all the determined enthusiasm he'd started with but with a great deal more finesse, and Roy broke the kiss again and smiled against Ed's temple. A fast learner. He was always such a fast learner.

Ed jerked his fingers on Roy's collar until Roy was looking at him. Ed's pupils had blown so wide that the gold of his eyes was just a luminous rim around darkness, like a solar eclipse. He licked his swollen lips, and creaked, "So—what's next?"

"Impatient," Roy said.

"Huh," Ed said. "Your fault"—with such accusation that Roy laughed and laughed.


End file.
